matches and dispatches Archives - Scrapiana Scrapiana The American Museum wakes up for another season ‘Hatches, matches and dispatches’ is old newspaper slang for the births, marriages and deaths columns. You’ll also hear it used to refer to baptisms, weddings and funerals, the corresponding services offered by the Church. Now the American Museum in Britain , located idyllically on the southern outskirts of Bath, has tweaked the term for its latest exhibition, Hatched, Matched, Dispatched – & Patched! This exhibition, which runs through the year until 1st November 2015, brings together textile artefacts interwoven with life’s great rites of passage. And, as plenty of those textile items have been created using patchwork (and the museum has a fine permanent quilt collection), that’s where the ‘patched’ comes in. Some artefacts have also been borrowed from exhibition partners the Beamish Museum , Jersey Museum and Art Gallery , the Quilters’ Guild , and Jen Jones’ collection in Wales, and so the sourcing reflects a mixed provenance from both the United States and the British Isles.

But it’s the cross-cultural universality of the human condition which draws them all together, and there are plenty of poignant human-interest stories behind these objects, as curator Kate Hebert explains: ‘the personal and sentimental connections, the stories of the individuals that are linked with these objects, are what I have found so moving.’ I went along for the press launch early last month when spring was still struggling to assert itself and the banks of daffodils were only just beginning to open outside in the beautiful grounds. But there was plenty of stitched brightness and vitality to view within the exhibition. Here’s a taste of what I saw. Hatched, Matched, Dispatched – & Patched! poster Glad rags Life’s big milestones are usually associated with looking your best, so it makes sense that many of the textile objects featured in the exhibition are items of clothing (a subject I was possibly over-engaged with when I attended as I was in the middle of a ‘fashion fast’ – more of that in another post).

Christening gowns, christening bonnets, baby slippers, bridal gowns and shoes, black clothes worn when an official period of mourning was enforced, even clothing worn by the dead to be buried in – modern day grave goods, you might call them – feature here. The displays are subdivided into three grouped sections (‘Hatched’, ‘Matched’ and ‘Dispatched’), but I’ll dot back and forth between them for this post. In the ‘Hatched’ section cascades of handmade broderie anglaise in a row of Christening gowns caught my eye. The christening gown took over when swaddling fell out of favour in the eighteenth century. Then gowns became longer and longer, an opportunity to display one’s wealth and status in the finest detail, all located at the front, of course, where it could be shown off. In a cabinet of baby bonnets, I spotted a cap with the tiniest imaginable white French knots – alas, my phone wasn’t up to capturing them.

I was also drawn to a pair of 1930s silk baby slippers with padded soles worked very effectively in a hatched trapunto pattern of quilting, using coloured yarns which were just visible through the silk. Christening robe, c. 1890 c/o Jersey Museum One of the wedding dresses on display was worn in 1887 by Agnes Lucy Hughes, the first mother-in-law of Wallis Simpson. But most eye-catching is the daffodil dress (see below) embroidered by Henriette Leonard for inclusion in her bridal trousseau around 1892. Tragically, Henriette died before she was able to wear it; her brother persuaded her to take a tour of Europe shortly before her wedding, and during the trip she took ill with the flu allied with ‘nervous exhaustion’ and died. The pristine condition of the dress suggests that it was never worn and got packed away as a family memento. Daffodil dress. Photo credit: the American Museum Sad rags In the ‘Dispatched’ section there’s quite a bit of mourning garb, much of it nineteenth century and frequently featuring jet.

As a Victorian female mourner observing a strict code of mourning etiquette, your yards of black crepe would be held together in part by ‘jet pins’ (actually ‘japanned’ or enamelled metal) so as not to allow the unseemly glint of frivolous silver caused by a regular steel pin. Jet pins Strict observance of an official mourning regime in Britain appears to have been relaxed during the Great War. Then the massive death toll in the trenches would have required so many to wear mourning garb that civilian morale would have been too sorely tested. There’s a tradition in Wales of knitting stockings to be worn after death. Similarly, some women quilted skirts to be buried in. The late nineteenth century Welsh skirt below is a rare survival, made by two sisters who somehow left it behind when they moved house. Welsh quilted burial skirt, nineteenth century, courtesy of Jen Jones Quilts Finely detailed items to adorn the home have often been made in response to a birth, stitched by a young woman in anticipation of her marriage, or by a mourning widow to mark the sorrowful departure of her life’s partner.

The American Museum is justly famous for its quilt collection, and you get a chance to see a few of their gems showcased here in this exhibition. Ellen Bryant’s 1863 log cabin quilt One of my favourites is the stunning log cabin top shown above, pieced around 1863 by Ellen Bryant in preparation for her marriage in Londonderry, Vermont. Over three hundred log cabin blocks (each 4 and a half inches square) have been arranged in a variation known as ‘barn raising’ or ‘sunshine and shadow’. This eye-popping quilt has an even more intricately pieced backing created by Ellen’s sister, not finished until 1886. Evidently the resulting quilt – a sororal labour of love – took over two decades to complete. And another favourite from the permanent collection is the Christmas bride. The appliqued holly leaves have faded over the years, as greens tend to do, but the red berries and festoons remain surprisingly bright. Insider tip: you may still be able to find a tea towel bearing this design in the museum shop.

Christmas Bride appliqued quilt With my interest in mending, I was glad to see Bertha Mitchell’s quilt, made from dress and furnishing fabrics to celebrate her sister’s wedding in 1899. Bertha worked as a seamstress, repairing clothes in Keswick Boarding School. You’ll find a close-up picture of that quilt over on my Instagram feed . A very special cot quilt is featured here, on loan from the Quilters’ Guild, but unfortunately I didn’t get a photo of it. It’s the earliest piece on display (1700-10) and is a white, whole-cloth quilt, densely quilted by hand. There are also a few mourning or memorial quilts on display, a couple dating from the American Civil War era (see ‘Darts of Death’ on my Instagram feed ). Poignant needle And then there was possibly the most moving item of all, a simple embroidered tablecloth – its very ordinariness adding to its poignancy. The signatures of female friends and American servicemen stationed at Cheltenham during the months leading up to D-Day are partly embroidered. But some remain in the pencil.

Helen Slater, the embroiderer, was working them in a variety of bright colours, but she stopped part way through one signature, and her needle remains lodged in the fabric. She couldn’t bring herself to finish the project after she heard that her fiancé, Jack Carpenter (his name embroidered in red) had been killed in action. She put the cloth away with a book (The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam) that he’d given her just before he left for the D-Day landings, and she cherished them both for 70 years until her own death. Embroidered tablecloth, World War II Postpartum pincushions I like a nice pin or several and so made a beeline for a couple of exhibits featuring pins. For the diehard haberdashery enthusiast, besides the jet pins mentioned above there’s the museum’s own 1821 baby-welcoming pincushion made of silk and steel pins. This pincushion, which has just been restored (the silk had shredded and the stuffing been lost), reminded me of a couple in the 2010 V&A exhibition of quilts, though those were dated a little earlier.

Pincushions with elaborate patterns and phrases marked out with pinheads were popular gifts for new mothers. However, it was considered bad luck to gift such a pincushion before the birth, as that might sharpen the pains of labour. The museum notes explain that in colonial New York, births were announced by hanging pincushions on door knockers – a practice which apparently fell out of favour after the safety pin was invented in 1878. ‘Welcome little stranger’ pin cushion Tonsorial textiles Grim though they might sound to us today, mourning rings made from the deceased’s hair were popular on both sides of the Atlantic during the nineteenth century. The eagle-eyed visitor to this exhibition will spot fascinatingly intricate rings and brooches delicately woven from human hair. I didn’t get a good shot of them, sadly, as that part of the exhibition was dark, but do look out for the rings ingeniously formed to resemble tiny buckled belts. There’s a lot more to see than I can show you here, but you can find a few more images over on my Instagram feed . And let’s not forget the person who put it all together: Kate Hebert, new in post as the American Museum’s curator. Congratulations, Kate!

Curator Kate Hebert Finally, a quick update on last year’s immensely popular Kaffe Fassett exhibition . I’m reliably informed that there is now a permanent Kaffe boutique at the museum , so whenever you time your visit you can always get your fix. Hatched, Matched, Dispatched – & Patched! runs till 1st November 2015 at the American Museum in Britain , Claverton Manor. There will be a talk by Edwina Ehrman, Curator of Fashion & Textiles at the Victoria & Albert Museum, this Thursday 16th April 2015. Check out the museum’s website for other associated events. Running alongside this exhibition is Spirit Hawk Eye, a celebration of American native culture through the portraits of Heidi Laughton. Claverton Manor Archives - Scrapiana Scrapiana The American Museum wakes up for another season ‘Hatches, matches and dispatches’ is old newspaper slang for the births, marriages and deaths columns. You’ll also hear it used to refer to baptisms, weddings and funerals, the corresponding services offered by the Church.

Now the American Museum in Britain , located idyllically on the southern outskirts of Bath, has tweaked the term for its latest exhibition, Hatched, Matched, Dispatched – & Patched! This exhibition, which runs through the year until 1st November 2015, brings together textile artefacts interwoven with life’s great rites of passage. And, as plenty of those textile items have been created using patchwork (and the museum has a fine permanent quilt collection), that’s where the ‘patched’ comes in. Some artefacts have also been borrowed from exhibition partners the Beamish Museum , Jersey Museum and Art Gallery , the Quilters’ Guild , and Jen Jones’ collection in Wales, and so the sourcing reflects a mixed provenance from both the United States and the British Isles.

But it’s the cross-cultural universality of the human condition which draws them all together, and there are plenty of poignant human-interest stories behind these objects, as curator Kate Hebert explains: ‘the personal and sentimental connections, the stories of the individuals that are linked with these objects, are what I have found so moving.’ I went along for the press launch early last month when spring was still struggling to assert itself and the banks of daffodils were only just beginning to open outside in the beautiful grounds. But there was plenty of stitched brightness and vitality to view within the exhibition. Here’s a taste of what I saw. Hatched, Matched, Dispatched – & Patched! poster Glad rags Life’s big milestones are usually associated with looking your best, so it makes sense that many of the textile objects featured in the exhibition are items of clothing (a subject I was possibly over-engaged with when I attended as I was in the middle of a ‘fashion fast’ – more of that in another post).

Christening gowns, christening bonnets, baby slippers, bridal gowns and shoes, black clothes worn when an official period of mourning was enforced, even clothing worn by the dead to be buried in – modern day grave goods, you might call them – feature here. The displays are subdivided into three grouped sections (‘Hatched’, ‘Matched’ and ‘Dispatched’), but I’ll dot back and forth between them for this post. In the ‘Hatched’ section cascades of handmade broderie anglaise in a row of Christening gowns caught my eye. The christening gown took over when swaddling fell out of favour in the eighteenth century. Then gowns became longer and longer, an opportunity to display one’s wealth and status in the finest detail, all located at the front, of course, where it could be shown off. In a cabinet of baby bonnets, I spotted a cap with the tiniest imaginable white French knots – alas, my phone wasn’t up to capturing them.

I was also drawn to a pair of 1930s silk baby slippers with padded soles worked very effectively in a hatched trapunto pattern of quilting, using coloured yarns which were just visible through the silk. Christening robe, c. 1890 c/o Jersey Museum One of the wedding dresses on display was worn in 1887 by Agnes Lucy Hughes, the first mother-in-law of Wallis Simpson. But most eye-catching is the daffodil dress (see below) embroidered by Henriette Leonard for inclusion in her bridal trousseau around 1892. Tragically, Henriette died before she was able to wear it; her brother persuaded her to take a tour of Europe shortly before her wedding, and during the trip she took ill with the flu allied with ‘nervous exhaustion’ and died. The pristine condition of the dress suggests that it was never worn and got packed away as a family memento. Daffodil dress. Photo credit: the American Museum Sad rags In the ‘Dispatched’ section there’s quite a bit of mourning garb, much of it nineteenth century and frequently featuring jet.

As a Victorian female mourner observing a strict code of mourning etiquette, your yards of black crepe would be held together in part by ‘jet pins’ (actually ‘japanned’ or enamelled metal) so as not to allow the unseemly glint of frivolous silver caused by a regular steel pin. Jet pins Strict observance of an official mourning regime in Britain appears to have been relaxed during the Great War. Then the massive death toll in the trenches would have required so many to wear mourning garb that civilian morale would have been too sorely tested. There’s a tradition in Wales of knitting stockings to be worn after death. Similarly, some women quilted skirts to be buried in. The late nineteenth century Welsh skirt below is a rare survival, made by two sisters who somehow left it behind when they moved house. Welsh quilted burial skirt, nineteenth century, courtesy of Jen Jones Quilts Finely detailed items to adorn the home have often been made in response to a birth, stitched by a young woman in anticipation of her marriage, or by a mourning widow to mark the sorrowful departure of her life’s partner.

The American Museum is justly famous for its quilt collection, and you get a chance to see a few of their gems showcased here in this exhibition. Ellen Bryant’s 1863 log cabin quilt One of my favourites is the stunning log cabin top shown above, pieced around 1863 by Ellen Bryant in preparation for her marriage in Londonderry, Vermont. Over three hundred log cabin blocks (each 4 and a half inches square) have been arranged in a variation known as ‘barn raising’ or ‘sunshine and shadow’. This eye-popping quilt has an even more intricately pieced backing created by Ellen’s sister, not finished until 1886. Evidently the resulting quilt – a sororal labour of love – took over two decades to complete. And another favourite from the permanent collection is the Christmas bride. The appliqued holly leaves have faded over the years, as greens tend to do, but the red berries and festoons remain surprisingly bright. Insider tip: you may still be able to find a tea towel bearing this design in the museum shop.

Christmas Bride appliqued quilt With my interest in mending, I was glad to see Bertha Mitchell’s quilt, made from dress and furnishing fabrics to celebrate her sister’s wedding in 1899. Bertha worked as a seamstress, repairing clothes in Keswick Boarding School. You’ll find a close-up picture of that quilt over on my Instagram feed . A very special cot quilt is featured here, on loan from the Quilters’ Guild, but unfortunately I didn’t get a photo of it. It’s the earliest piece on display (1700-10) and is a white, whole-cloth quilt, densely quilted by hand. There are also a few mourning or memorial quilts on display, a couple dating from the American Civil War era (see ‘Darts of Death’ on my Instagram feed ). Poignant needle And then there was possibly the most moving item of all, a simple embroidered tablecloth – its very ordinariness adding to its poignancy. The signatures of female friends and American servicemen stationed at Cheltenham during the months leading up to D-Day are partly embroidered. But some remain in the pencil.

Helen Slater, the embroiderer, was working them in a variety of bright colours, but she stopped part way through one signature, and her needle remains lodged in the fabric. She couldn’t bring herself to finish the project after she heard that her fiancé, Jack Carpenter (his name embroidered in red) had been killed in action. She put the cloth away with a book (The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam) that he’d given her just before he left for the D-Day landings, and she cherished them both for 70 years until her own death. Embroidered tablecloth, World War II Postpartum pincushions I like a nice pin or several and so made a beeline for a couple of exhibits featuring pins. For the diehard haberdashery enthusiast, besides the jet pins mentioned above there’s the museum’s own 1821 baby-welcoming pincushion made of silk and steel pins. This pincushion, which has just been restored (the silk had shredded and the stuffing been lost), reminded me of a couple in the 2010 V&A exhibition of quilts, though those were dated a little earlier.

Pincushions with elaborate patterns and phrases marked out with pinheads were popular gifts for new mothers. However, it was considered bad luck to gift such a pincushion before the birth, as that might sharpen the pains of labour. The museum notes explain that in colonial New York, births were announced by hanging pincushions on door knockers – a practice which apparently fell out of favour after the safety pin was invented in 1878. ‘Welcome little stranger’ pin cushion Tonsorial textiles Grim though they might sound to us today, mourning rings made from the deceased’s hair were popular on both sides of the Atlantic during the nineteenth century. The eagle-eyed visitor to this exhibition will spot fascinatingly intricate rings and brooches delicately woven from human hair. I didn’t get a good shot of them, sadly, as that part of the exhibition was dark, but do look out for the rings ingeniously formed to resemble tiny buckled belts. There’s a lot more to see than I can show you here, but you can find a few more images over on my Instagram feed . And let’s not forget the person who put it all together: Kate Hebert, new in post as the American Museum’s curator. Congratulations, Kate!

Curator Kate Hebert Finally, a quick update on last year’s immensely popular Kaffe Fassett exhibition . I’m reliably informed that there is now a permanent Kaffe boutique at the museum , so whenever you time your visit you can always get your fix. Hatched, Matched, Dispatched – & Patched! runs till 1st November 2015 at the American Museum in Britain , Claverton Manor. There will be a talk by Edwina Ehrman, Curator of Fashion & Textiles at the Victoria & Albert Museum, this Thursday 16th April 2015. Check out the museum’s website for other associated events. Running alongside this exhibition is Spirit Hawk Eye, a celebration of American native culture through the portraits of Heidi Laughton. Gloss 0102 rateable value — (("value ascribed to a property for the purpose of assessing the rates to be levied on it" – OED .)) In plainer words, the houses become richer-looking as he advances. mum-mim-mom — later explained as mimosa.

> paddy whacks — ((paddywhack: "an Irishman"; also: "a rage, passion, temper" – OED .)) (("a stout brawney Irishman" – Grose 1811 .)) … "A Country Recruit" caricature, 1800 "I'm Paddy Whack, from Ballyhack, Not long ago turn'd soldier; In storm and sack, in front attack, None other can be boulder." — quoted as "Irish Song" in JC Hotten, The Slang Dictionary , 1873 . boys ... bugles ... bayonets — their army career together, i.e. from being army boys through buglers to "bayonets" (("a synonym of 'rank and file,' that is, privates and corporals of infantry" – Brewer 1898 .)) rang like bells ... — ? chimed together, in the sense of being agreeable. all we wanted was hanging — punning "hanging bells" and "hanging criminals".

(("agree like bells, they want nothing but hanging": colloquial verging on proverbial – Partridge HS .)) Mr Mack's and Mr Doyle's thoughts upon each other seem to circle the notion that one or the other or both should be hanged. cf "by any stretch" Prologue < ; "never your neck", Ch1.1. < from Rank Marks of the British Army – Boy's Own Paper, 1883 first stripe — his first promotion, here to lance-corporal. ((stripe: "chevron ... that indicates rank" – Collins .)) scarlet and blue — colours of the regimental uniform. light of bright and other days — reference to the song "Oft in the Stilly Night", by Thomas Moore , 1815, which Mr Doyle will sing in Chapter 3.2. ("Sad memory brings the light | Of other days around me".) ♫♫ hatches, matches, dispatches — newspaper column of births, marriages, and deaths. ((journalistic – Partridge HS .)) The front page of newspapers then was usually reserved for announcements and advertisements. Roll of Honour — here, a newspaper column reporting war casualties.

scapular — a devotional adornment worn by Catholics, often as a protection against temptation or evil. ^ borrowing trouble — going out of one's way to meet trouble. (( OED .)) Jacobs! — a minced oath for "Jesus!" ("based on the name of a well-known Biscuit manufacturer in Dublin" – DHE .)) two dee — two pennies. (Mr Mack had paid for the newspaper with a threepence coin.) one and thruppenny — costing one shilling and threepence. Evening Mail — Dublin evening newspaper. ^ Ballygihen House — from the descriptions a mixture of someplace real and someplace imagined. ^ on me — the meaning is "to my disadvantage" rather than "on my head". IE G.A Dunn & Co., bowler hat Dunn's three-and-ninepenny bowler — from Dunn & Co, the Strand, London hatters. (("This make being the best of the lower-priced hats" – Partridge HS .)) the sea oh the sea, long may it be — ?

an echo (or, given the period, a presentiment) of the song "The Sea Around Us" by Dominic Behan, written in the 1960s. ♫♫ view and vantage them both — both pleasant to look at and commanding a pleasant view. RMS Munster, one of the four mailboats to England mailboats — the passenger boats that plied between Kingstown and the British ports, carrying the mail. ^ area and steps area steps — steps leading to the "area". ((area: "sunken court, shut off from the pavement by railings, and approached by a flight of steps, which gives access to the basement of dwelling-houses" – OED .)) The area usually constituted the servants' entry. slavey — maid-of-all-work, general maid. (("esp. one who is hard-worked" – OED .)) (("... the young woman who did the work of the house, and who was known by the name of Betty to her mistress, and of 'Slavey' to Mr. Morgan" – showing leg — revealing a part of her leg as she worked. Athlone — a town in County Westmeath located close to the geographical centre of Ireland.

masonic — ? here meaning "secretive" (? from the Catholic suspicion of Freemasonry). The War Illustrated, October, 1914 for larger view click bottom-right Aldershot — a town in Hampshire in southern England where the British Army maintained a large permanent camp. Parnell's home, Avondale, Co Wicklow, 1880 — a typical "big house" of the gentry big house — a mansion. (( OED .)) (("the 'Big House,' as an Irish country gentleman's residence is termed" – Carleton, " Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry , Vol 3, 1833 .)) (("the gentry have gone and the big houses are in ruins, or empty or sold to nuns and monks, who are the only people who can afford to live in fine houses" – George Moore, Hail and Farewell , Vol 3, 1914. )) crack — fun, mischief. ((for the crack: "for fun" Anglo-Irish – OED .)) In this sense almost certainly an anachronism.

divil-may-care — IE rendering of ((devil-may-care: "careless and rollicking" – OED .)) minx — a pert girl. (( OED .)) cod-acting — playing the fool. ((cod: "a joke, a fool" – DILR .)) (("In IE , emphasis is on deception, deceit or stupidity rather than practical jokes" – Slanguage .)) desperate — (("very bad" – Slanguage .)) The "the" ("it's the desparate shame") is one of those peculiarities of IE . ownest — very own. (( OED .)) (("crushing her soft body to him, and love her, his ownest girlie, for herself alone" – Joyce, Ulysses , 1922 .)) cutting a fine dash of a thing — (("to cut a dash is to get one's self looked at and talked about for a showy or striking appearance" – Brewer 1898 .)) general — short for "general maid". (( OED .)) < gigglepot — ? somebody who giggles and twitters. The word doesn't appear in any dictionaries.

Recruitment poster, WW1 rights of Catholic Belgium — Belgium, a largely Catholic country, had been invaded by Germany at the start of the War. In consequence in Ireland the "major propaganda arguments for joining the British army focused (for southern Catholics) on defending the Catholic nation of Belgium ..." – dandyprat — (("a person physically, socially, or morally very insignificant" – Partridge HS .)) consideration — a reward, remuneration. (( OED .)) spit of a walk — short distance. ((a spit and a stride: "a very short distance" – OED .)) look-see — inspection. (( Partridge HS .)) hand-me-down — second-hand (clothes, etc.) ((low colloquial – Partridge HS .)) pledge-shop — pawnshop. ((pledge: "to pawn" – OED .)) Clydesdale — breed of draught horse. bait-sack — ? presumably a nose bag from which to feed. ((bait: "a feed for horses" – OED .)) loafer — idler.

(( Farmer 1904 .)) holding up the corner — (("satirical description of a leaning idler" Anglo-American – Ware 1909 .)) nipper-squeak — the squeak, or high-pitched call, of a young boy. ((nipper: "a boy, esp. if under say 12" – Partridge .)) tram had passed — it appears trams at this time made small deliveries. (("Among other facilities offered by the D.U.T.C. [Dublin United Tramway Company] was the Parcels Express, which operated from 1883 to 1940" – Dublin Tramways .)) (("Can you send them by tram? Now?" – Adelaide Road — probably named after Queen Adelaide, consort of King William IV (reigned 1830-37). ree-raw — rough, riotous, noisy.

((Anglo-Irish – OED .)) ((ex Irish rí-rá "hubbub, uproar" – Slanguage .)) Weston and Darewski, " Sister Susie ", sheet music, 1914 Sister Susie's sewing shirts for soldiers — popular wartime "novelty" song by Weston and Darewski, 1914. ♫♫ quare — IE rendering of "queer", here meaning "unusually". (("strange, odd, peculiar, memorable" – DILR .)) neck — (("implying insolent speech or presumptuous behaviour, esp. in phrase 'to have a neck'" – OED .)) ((hard neck: "extreme impudence" Anglo-Irish; from ca 1870 – Partridge HS .)) making mouths — making (("derisive grimaces and noises with the mouth" – OED .)) chancer — opportunist. (("a crafty person who would try anything to get an advantage over someone" – DHE .)) shaper — one who puts on airs, shows off. (("with connotations of aggression" – Slanguage .)) take them in charge — arrest them.

(( OED .)) no licence for singing — public houses were (and are) required to have a licence for singing on the premises. Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae ... Angelus bell not rung — not yet noon. Angelus Sawney — Scottish lowlands variant of "Sandy" short for the masculine name "Alexander". Here, presumably, a shortened version of "Alexandria", though this usage is nowhere reported. The OED gives three further meanings: 1. derisive nickname for a Scotchman; 2. a simpleton, fool; 3. slang bacon. gas — gas lighting. font — small basin hung by the door containing holy water. Font keep tabs — to keep an account. (( OED .)) Straits of Ballambangjan — (("straits as imaginary as they are narrow" nautical colloquial – Partridge HS .)) (("A sailor's joke for a place where he may lay any wonderful adventure.

These straits, he will tell us, are so narrow that a ship cannot pass through without jamming the tails of the monkeys which haunt the trees on each side of the strait; or any other rigmarole which his fancy may conjure up at the moment" – Brewer 1898 .)) find harbour — find refuge. on tick — on credit. (( OED .)) bills — advertisements, flyers. (( OED .)) American paper — ? unknown. gross — (("twelve dozen" – OED .)) fine as rashers of wind — ? very thin. ((rasher: "thin slice of bacon" – OED .)) Canon — a large type in printing. (( OED .)) Mr. A. Mack, Esqr. — Mr Mack here both assumes a dignity (Esqr, short for Esquire, "a man belonging to the higher order of English gentry" – OED ) and forfeits it ("Esqr" supersedes "Mr" and may not be used in connection with it). ^ Will Comfort Our Troops — will go towards providing comforts for soldiers. topper — (("an action, remark, etc., that puts a finishing touch to what has gone before, esp.

an outrageous one or one that cannot be capped" – OED .)) the hookum — the correct thing. ((army colloquial. Ex Hindustani hukam – Partridge HS .)) (("'that's the hookum' an old Army colloquial term" – Fraser & Gibbons, Soldier & Sailor Words, 1925 .)) Save On Leather — save on shoe-leather (i.e. by shopping locally). swells — the upper classes. ((swell: "a lady or gentleman of the upper classes" – Partridge HS .)) smells — ? the lower classes. exeunt two biddies — two biddies leave (theatrical). ((biddy: "meddlesome old woman" abbrev. of "Bridget" – Slanguage .)) fate accomplished — a misrendering of French fait accompli. puffed out — tired out. ((puffed: "put out of breath by exertion" – OED .)) General Lord Kitchener of Khartoum, GCB, KCMG, KP, GCIE ... born Ballylongford, County Kerry, Ireland kitchener — a kitchen range.

(("cooking-range fitted with various appliances such as ovens, plate-warmers, water-heaters, etc" – OED .)) blacking — the application of black-lead (polish for cleaning and shining ironwork.) Zebra — a brand of black-lead. hero who avenged Khartoum — Field Marshal Lord Kitchener, known as "Kitchener of Khartoum". ^ Findlater's, George's St, Kingstown "Under the Findlater's Clock" was for years the rendezvous for Dun Laoghaire's patient lovers. Findlater's — a large "genteel" grocery store in nearby Kingstown. his treat — his (birthday) present. I'll be sugared — minced oath , "I'll be buggered". (( Partridge HS .)) Grecian bends — properly Grecian bend: (("the body bent forward in walking: a Society vogue of ca 1872–80. The term long outlasted the craze" – Partridge .)) (("An affectation in walking, with the body stooped slightly forward, assumed by English ladies in 1875.

The silliness spread to America and other countries which affect passing oddities of fashion" - Brewer 1898 .)) brown titus — a misrendering of "bronchitis". font wants filling — is in need of replenishing with holy water. Methody — a Methodist. (( Slanguage. )) ((dialect and semi-literate colloquial – Partridge .)) (("You've been getting yourself preached at by them ranting Methody folks on the green" – .)) cheeses — minced oath , "Jesus!" pucker — excellent. ((Anglo-Indian colloquial Ex Hindu pakka, "substantial" – Partridge HS .)) This is a British Army usage: in Ireland the usage would be rare. Brougham brougham — a one-horse closed carriage. (( OED .)) It's hard to see why a bishop in particular would have a brougham. (( Wikipedia .)) hock — properly "to pawn" (( OED )). Here meaning "to sell" or "to hawk". keeping the home fires burning — reference to the patriotic wartime song by Ivor Novello, "Keep the Home Fires Burning (Till the Boys Come Home)", written 1914.

♫♫ tippy — ((of tea: "containing a large proportion of the 'tips' or leaf-buds of the shoot" – OED .)) Darjeeling — a high-quality tea. (( Collins .)) carriage-trade — trade from the wealthy part of society. (( Collins .)) holy show — (("source of scandal, embarrassment, esp. in 'make a holy show of oneself'" – Slanguage .)) stepping out — ((step out: "to accompany or walk out (with a person of the opposite sex); to consort (with a lover)" – OED .)) Camellia sinensis (the tea plant), illustration from "Kohler's Medicinal Plants", 1887 Assam ... pekoe ... souchong ... oolong — varieties of tea. dabs just nipping the counter — ? fingers, hands just reaching the counter.

((dab: "a flattish mass of some soft or moist substance dabbed or dropped on anything" – OED .)) ((dabs: "fingerprints" 1926 – Routledge Slang .)) bedouin — presumably in the sense of ((street Arab: "a homeless little wanderer; child of the street" – OED .)) ((bedouins: "the homeless street poor are so called" – Brewer 1898 .)) saucer of jam — ? enough, but no more, jam to fill a saucer. slum-rat — ? child of the slums. Read nearly all about it ... | Stuff.co.nz Read nearly all about it ...

Last updated 11:42 27/09/2008 Relevant offers Geoff Rennison Life's a constant battle with the elements Better off just digging It's true, I'm normal Lost in family holiday brouhaha Rambling chats demonstrate a word's worth Be a good chap, throttle off a bit Dream of Queen spoilt by submarine Those who are right face uncertain fates Fervour and fairies in the land of the AFL When snooker collided with university I don't know what I'd do without my daily newspaper. It usually arrives in our mailbox about 4.30 in the afternoon and if occasionally it's late I'll fret and prowl between house and mailbox, swearing softly if it happens to be raining. On the very rare occasions when it fails to arrive, my neighbour and I can be seen in the gathering dusk, comparing notes and wondering what's happened. Our paper-girl may arrive on a push-bike, on horseback, in a car, on a bike accompanied by a horse, or when all else fails, on foot. And once I hear the clang of the mailbox door I'm off outside (conditioned reflex, psychologists call it) and the evening's rituals can begin.

I don't know when I first started reading newspapers but it must have been long ago because I became a great fan of Rupert Bear, Bill Badger and the gang, and even today, if I'm in an airport somewhere and I happen upon an ownerless newspaper with Rupert in it, I'll check on what he's doing - basically the same things he was doing in 1947! Timeless, that's Rupert, but I rapidly moved on from him when I met Tintin and co. I still regard Thompson and Thomson as classic "accidental comedians". The South Waikato News was an early newspaper in Tokoroa and I remember an article that spoke out against the more extreme avant-garde among artists. I wrote to the editor in enthusiastic support of such extremism - "finally I put a match to my painting, ran all over the remains in football boots and hung the debris in a gallery. Heavens - if that's not art, I don't know what is". That sort of thing. A move to Wellington saw the Evening Post become my paper of choice. I used to buy it from a lad who looked about half my age (I was 17) and whose territory was mid-Lambton Quay.

"Hayyyyyvenin' Peee-ost!" he'd sing out. Much more fun than an automatic dispenser. A move to Auckland saw the Herald replace the Post. And the good thing about the Herald was the Herald bus, which left Auckland about 3am full of papers for the Waikato, with one or two seats left free for nocturnal passengers. It was a great feeling, making one's way to the despatch depot at dead-of-night, climbing in among the papers and being driven through the sleeping city. One night a girl about my age got on; there being only two spare seats we had to sit together and I greatly regretted it when she got off at Ngaruawahia. Ohhh, the romance of dawn coming up amidst the rustling of a myriad Heralds! Ad Feedback I must now confess that I don't actually read very much of my newspaper. I've known people who spend hours over a paper and when the news articles and opinion columns are left far behind, they plough grimly through Used Cars, Births, Marriages And Deaths (Hatches, Matches And Dispatches, a colleague once called them), Meetings, Escorts, Situations Vacant and Public Notices.

These days I tend to pop in and out of pages reading articles whose headings take my eye. Naturally I miss things. "Did you read about so-and-so?" my wife will ask. "No, I didn't see it." "Well it's here under a big heading on page two." "After you with the front bit again, then." Some things are mandatory: the Far Side cartoon on page two. (I'm talking about the Nelson Mail, you'll observe.) There are hundreds of cartoonists being published. The now-retired Gary Larson mined a vein of humour that was unique. I was once in a bookshop in Arizona reading through a Larson collection and crying with laughter. Another customer came up and said "I bet I know what you're laughing at," and she was right. I might grumble at two-page adverts interrupting the flow of news towards the editorial page but that's just me. Some people like to read adverts. I always read the letters, clicking my tongue sometimes at the never-ending, never-resolved sagas played out there. Global warming is a good example. The weekly gardening section sees me either nodding my head approvingly or loudly disagreeing with some item - usually vege-growing or composting.

Taking the turbulent anarchy of the overseas world as a given, I guess that I'm most interested these days in oddities. Last Tuesday's paper was a beaut: 1. Busy executives can now save time by showering in their suits. 2. The giant lump of "ambergris" might well be lard. 3. The Elvis Is Alive museum is for sale. 4. Someone's studying the kind of eruption that would destroy most of the North Island. 5. Geoff Robinson and Sean Plunkett may be resigning. Hello! A clang from the mailbox. There's a horse nearby ... excuse me.

Question: In newspaper slang what section of the paper is known as Hatches, Matches and Dispatches
Answer: Births, marriages and deaths